


A Heart of Coal

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood begets blood, and it always runs in between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart of Coal

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by wind-at-your-back.

The gym was ancient.

It was a simple fact that had always been true. Yang couldn’t picture what the place looked like new, before the paint was beaten off the walls and the mats pounded flat. It had looked just the same the first time Taiyang brought her here – a few years after Summer died, when her blood was boiling so hot it refused to stay under her skin – but she wasn’t even sure who ran the place. Decades ago, tournament hopefuls on Patch trained inside relentlessly, but no one on the island had seen that sort of rank in a while. Despite that, someone kept the gym going with touches of maintenance here and there; swabbing the floors or sewing the heavy bag shut before it spilled sand everywhere.

She put in time where she could, sweeping off the walkway, scrubbing blood and sweat off the tile that got overlooked. In Yang’s mind, it was just another part of her workout, doing upkeep in exchange for this quiet space where she didn’t have to hold back. The only thing that couldn’t be fixed was the ceiling, stained from raw Dust and the explosive Aura of thousands of fights and who knew how many years, every crack and split in the stone dyed with old rust and all the colors nature ever made. Not that it mattered; huge beams kept the ceiling in place, wood cut thick enough it must have taken ten people to carry it up the winding path here.

The only downside of the gym being so old was that there was only one shower in the back, but it always worked, drawing cold water from the heart of the mountain that would soothe any ache, even if she spit and cursed the first time it drenched her.

Every summer, Yang sprinted her way here after coming home, letting the thin air cut into her lungs. Beacon might have had top-of-the-line equipment, pressure sensors and timers to read someone’s strength until their Aura capped out or gave in, but she liked it better here. Now that there was a hunting license tucked in her boot, Yang knew she could train here all year around. This time, she wasn’t even alone.

“Ruby, it’s not shadow-boxing if you hit the wall!” Not that the wall couldn’t take it, but busted knuckles took a lot of energy to heal up. “You warmed up yet?”

“These gloves weigh a ton, Yang.” Despite the complaint, each punch was sharp and clean, popping out lightning-quick. Ruby had finally broken of the habit of locking out her elbows, but her guard had a tendency to drop when she got hammered on. “I’m gonna break something if we box with ‘em.”

“They’re for building endurance, not knocking someone out. Come here so I can get the straps off you.” She was lucky the ankle weights were somewhere in the abyss of the training closet, or Yang would have had her kicking the bag in those after.

Sweat soaked Ruby’s hair black as she hustled over, and the gloves were too bulky to do much of anything about it. Yang swiped her thumb over one brow before a stray drop got in her eyes, watching the silver there brighten at the touch.

“Hope you didn’t spend yourself fighting the corner.” Velcro rasped as she worked the straps open, unwinding them from around each wrist. “You still got to go a few rounds with me.”

“You’ve been jumping rope and hitting the speedbag the whole time.” Ruby grimaced as the gloves were tugged free, flexing her fingers. A touch of red painted her knuckles on one hand, but it didn’t look serious. “Not really fair that you’re wearing me out before we even get behind the ropes.”

“That’s because I’m trying to get faster and you’ve got to get tougher. You drop like a stone when I get inside your guard,  _mèimei_.” To be fair, it took a lot longer to soften her up than it used to, but Yang wasn’t satisfied yet.

Something popped when Ruby stretched her arms overhead, knuckles cracking one by one. “It’s different with Grimm. They don’t know my weak spots like you do.”

“But they could hit one, Ruby. Give it enough time and some monster’s gonna get lucky.” Leaning over the equipment box, Yang swapped out the damp gloves for two other pairs, fingerless and padded. “We’re not in school anymore. Goodwitch won’t drop from the sky if you get split up from us.”

“Okay, okay. Drop the lecture,  _jiĕjie_ , and let me prove I got it down.” She let out a grunt when Yang tossed the gloves her way, holding them to her chest. “Three rounds?”

A grin tugged at the edge of Yang’s mouth. “You’ll know when we’re done.”

The groan in response made her laugh until they were in the ring. She leaned back against the ragged red ropes, listening to them creak before they held firm, trembling with controlled energy against the base of her spine. Ruby went to the opposite corner as she tugged her gloves on, testing the fit with a quick one-two. For a moment, Yang watched her go through the motions, ducking and weaving before twisting into a quick gutshot. It was a good sign that Ruby was falling into the rhythm so easily, taking to the technique like instinct.

Her own gloves slid on like they were custom-fit, but that was only because she’d once spent an hour sitting on the floor and rifling through every pair, making a mark on the inside tag after finding the perfect set. They weren’t hers to take or keep, but they felt special anyway. Yang slammed her fists together, feeling the impact radiate up both arms and down her spine. The padding was starting to give along the third knuckle, but they would last this fight at least.

“You know the drill. No Semblance, no leaving the ring.” When the ropes snapped back, she landed on her toes, bringing up her fists. “Round stops when someone taps out.”

There was a quick nod and Yang closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye. She threw some soft shots to make sure Ruby’s guard was high, pressing in until they started to circle each other, bouncing from corner to corner. That was the way it tended to start, with Ruby keeping a wide berth and looking for the perfect opening, but Yang knew better. It wasn’t a real fight until they were in the clutch, until some of that aggression packed in that lithe frame came spilling out. Tilting the scales wasn’t easy, but there was a lesson for both of them to take from it.

“You run, I’m gonna take you to the mat, Ruby.” Yang warned, shuffling close and telegraphing a roundhouse that was ducked, but sloppily. “Show me some vigor.”

“You’ve got more reach.” She groused back, trying for a quick hook to the ankle that Yang sidestepped. “You just slap my hands away.”

Baring her teeth at the excuse, Yang spat, “even without Aura, you’re faster than me. Get in and get out.”

Two seconds ticked by in her head before she lunged forward, forcing both of her arms under Ruby’s and about to squeeze tight for a takedown. Before she could get her knee around, though, a rain of punches suddenly hammered her ribs, and Yang tried to lock her hands together, only for Ruby to drop her weight and slide out of the hold quicker than a snake. The blows hadn’t hurt much, but it was a solid defense, and she rewarded it with a grin as she put her back to the corner.

A southpaw sucker punch came in reply, but Yang twisted so it grazed up her shoulder, leaving Ruby’s center wide open. Retaliating with a quick one-two to the gut sent her stumbling back and drawing in staggered breaths, stance on the verge of buckling. Yang backed off a few inches, making a show of switching up her hands, and Ruby was back in the fray an instant later, blocking a roundhouse and following it up with a knee that popped right under her ribs. She smacked away the next punch that came for her jaw, feinting high and watching Ruby’s head snap upward.

It was all the opportunity Yang needed to make a quick sweep around, arms seizing around Ruby’s ribs before she turned and dropped, taking them both to the floor. Ruby kicked out wildly, heels beating a tattoo into one of her calves, but she only squeezed tighter until desperation made for a reaction by instinct alone. A hard back elbow nearly shattered her nose and Yand had to swallow her Aura down, almost choking on the surge of adrenaline. She put the building energy into a quick pin, arm placing a bar against the back of Ruby’s neck before she raised her other fist high, ready to drop it like a stone.

Leather scraped canvas, rasping loudly as Ruby tapped out, tucking her head down in the crook of her elbow. “ _Yang_ –”

Rolling off of her without a second thought, Yang fought the urge to bounce back up to her feet and stayed on one knee instead, scanning for any blood or swelling. Ruby’s groan right after confirmed it was nothing more than bruised ego, hair impatiently pushed back out of her face as she got up, shaking off sweat like a soaked hound.

“You want a hair tie?” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Some water? A mouthguard?”

“Bite me.” Ruby hissed, dropping back into a proper stance.

Now they were playing with fire.

Her black workout pants clung like a second skin, tight enough for Yang to see a muscle trembling in one leg. It might have been pulled during the grapple, but if Ruby was still ready to rumble, she wasn’t going to say no. She had just gotten straight when a flurry of blows came from either side, driving up into her ribs faster than machine-gun fire. Twisting out of range gave her a second’s grace, but Yang was honestly surprised when Ruby didn’t let up, clearing three inches of air to nail a flying punch just below the collarbone.

The impact knocked Yang back into a corner and she tasted copper along her tongue, having bit the side of her mouth to keep from grinding her teeth. Part of her wanted to chastise Ruby for the risky move, but it had been a hell of a shot, so she settled for putting up a heavy guard, angled so Ruby would have to get close to the ropes if she wanted an opening. After a moment of consideration, keeping on her toes, she took the bait and Yang steeled herself. Ruby landed a few solid strikes along her forearms, but she could soak up pain there all day, waiting until exhaustion took its toll.

“Don’t burn out,” Yang countered with a quick cross, pleased when Ruby bobbed out of the way, “if you’re going full throttle and they’re not cracking, try something else.”

“I’m faster than this.” Ruby gasped, shuffling back to the center of the mat to regroup. “Holding back’s driving me mad, Yang.”

“Your Semblance is a tool, not a crutch.” Going for the ground again would be a cheap shot at this point, but she wanted to work her legs a little, moving in to scout out a good target for some kicks.  “Neo almost killed me because I forgot that, remember?”

Anger flashed through gunmetal eyes at the reminder of old sorrow, patched over and stitched away, but Ruby’s argument died on her lips and her guard tightened, focus renewed despite her chest rising and falling a bit too fast. Yang came in with a hard sweep to Ruby’s calf, but the hook slipped at the very end, foot slipping free. Recovering with an outside jab didn’t do much for her balance and Ruby took advantage of the sluggish sway of her hips, springing forward into a full tackle.

A solid thud rang through Yang’s skull as her body hit the mat, all the air in her lungs forced out. Breathing in stung, but she managed a quick exhale just in time to cross both arms in front of her face, warding off insult to injury after Ruby’s weight anchored her hips down on the canvas. Their legs shifted in a mix of blunt knees and short kicks, jockeying for a hold until Yang hooked both her ankles and tried to flip their positions, only to be waylaid by a pointed elbow to the stomach. All of Ruby’s strikes were precise, smooth as the piston of an engine; it made them predictable, but damn if each one didn’t hurt with every ounce of power she had to offer.

She needed more mobility. Yang dropped the lock and drove her knee into Ruby’s side, grabbing both arms and pinning them to her own chest. Ruby let out a snarl, trying to rock out of her grasp, but Yang arched back against the mat, bringing her legs up to wrap them around Ruby’s torso and squeeze. Distantly, she could hear a desperate, ragged inhale, Ruby drawing in her last reserves of stamina, but Yang held out, keeping a tight grip despite the constant slip of sweat. They were both drenched now, killing any sort of clean friction, but even with every muscle in her arms screaming, she had enough strength left to force the tapout.

Until Ruby slammed her skull down in a perfectly executed headbutt.

Dark spots danced on the edge of Yang’s vision as her hands went slack, legs dropping back down to the mat. The darkness became a blur of color, spinning into a wild mosaic while she fought to hold onto consciousness, break the stun that was leaving her wide open. Ruby must have suffered from the recoil, reverberating bone-deep and down their spines, but Yang couldn’t find the will to stand, body shaking from the effort. When the lines of the world became real again, it was just in time to see a fist coming for her face.

She dodged by a centimeter, jerking her head out of the way, except another was coming and then another. The sloppy knee Yang threw didn’t connect, sliding off Ruby’s side, but it put a pause in the flurry of punches, enough for her to drive one of her own straight up. Wherever her knuckles landed, they glanced off bone, and Yang trembled again from head to toe. Her Semblance was about to burst out and fill her blood with liquid gold, that unstoppable rage that could carve through an entire nest of Grimm without a second thought. All she needed was a spark, something to light the killswitch in her heart.

But that would mean hurting Ruby, and she’d rather die first than lose that sort of control.

Yang slapped the mat until the sting radiated through her glove, leaving the nerves there ragged with pins and needles. She lay her head back and closed her eyes, counting down the pace of her pulse as the burn in her lungs started to ease, the energy stored up in her skin draining away. As soon as she could breathe right again, Yang realized Ruby was still on top of her, prompting a curious look upward.

“I got you.” Ruby whispered it like a secret thing, wrapped in awe and rapture. Blood was gathered at her brow from a split there, clotting to the color of rust. “I really got you.”

Yang blinked, trying to make sense of the words.  _Oh_. “Yeah, you won. Fair and square.”

“Yes!” Both fists shot high in the air, her high laugh better than any song or hymn Yang had ever cared to listen to. “I got you, finally!”

“And I got you.” Reaching up slow as her muscles could bear, Yang gingerly brushed her thumb over the cut. Ruby jerked away by instinct before relaxing into the touch, gulping down a hard breath.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.” The lie was an instinct too, but that was okay. Yang knew the reason for it; the same reason she told stories about some of her scars that simply weren’t true. “It’s only blood.”

“Only blood, huh?” She leaned until she was sitting up, keeping Ruby caught in the tangle of her lap. “Why don’t you tell me what does hurt?”

Ruby shrugged, eyes averting a bit. “My–my left calf. That first takedown made it stiffen up.”  

“So get off me and I’ll work it out.” It only took Yang a moment to catalogue her own aches and pains; nothing a shower and a full night’s rest wouldn’t cure. “You need to stretch too. A cold shower will lock you right up if you don’t.”

“Stretching’s the boring part.” Even with the muttering, Ruby obeyed anyway, carefully getting to her feet. “I thought you’d make me go another round.”

Yang heard a resounding pop in her shoulders as she stood up, followed by a wave of relief. Ground-and-pound was rougher on the body than anything else, that was for sure. She watched Ruby stretch out her arms as she did the same, feeling blood rush back into all the right places. By the time she got down to her back and legs, the sweat was starting to dry, clothes sticking in a dozen uncomfortable ways. They could soak in the bucket by the shower, and the constant rush of wind from the jog back down would take care of the rest.

“Sit on the plyo-box for me.” Nothing about the old iron made it a good seat, but being prone on the floor wasn’t any better. “Put your leg out.”

The wince when Ruby propped her leg at the right angle didn’t go unnoticed, but Yang held her tongue as she dropped to one knee. Stripping off her gloves felt like taking away a pound of flesh, too light without her gauntlets to make up the difference. Ruby’s gloves flopped on top of them a second later and Yang started rolling up the left leg of her workout pants, bunching it into a tight band near the bottom of her thigh. A gentle tap of her fingers against the swell of muscle earned a whimper of protest, proving where it hurt most, and Yang started the massage a few inches higher to ease into the pressure.

Pressure was all she felt when her hands were on Ruby, squeezing around her heart, hard and perfect. Yang kept her head low as she moved lower, thumbs rolling against the knot there, each tendon that was sore and overworked. She heard a quiet groan from above and glanced up, the flush of victory still warming Ruby’s face even as pain glittered in her eyes, putting polish to silver. Putting one hand under Ruby’s heel, Yang made her move that foot in slow circles, stretching out the last of the tightness radiating up the calf.

“You did good, Ruby.” Yang said, tugging the leg of her pants back down. “Last time you gave up after six rounds.”

“I thought my heart was going to explode. I slept for two days after that.” Ruby admitted, bouncing to her feet. The wince was gone now, washed away. “But…I don’t know what I did differently this time.”

Gesturing towards the shower, Yang started to walk, yanking the hem of her tank top out of the band of her shorts. “When I was weak, you came at me. Before, you hesitated.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about it. I just wanted to win.” Her laugh was cut short when they stepped onto the damp concrete in the back room. “Ugh, it’s always so cold in here.”

“It’ll feel good when it’s everywhere.” Yang nudged the bucket near the door with her foot. The water looked clean enough, although it was hard to tell the last time someone had refilled it. Considering how often the ceiling dripped here, it was probably rain. “Soak your clothes. Last time we put them in Bumblebee’s saddlebags, I could smell it for a week.”

Ruby’s nose scrunched up as she stripped off her shirt, careful to avoid bumping the gouge on her face. A few drops of blood had splattered down the front and started to dry dark, but they would rinse out in the bucket. Pulling the tank over her head was easy, but Yang grimaced as her fingers hooked under the edge of her sports bra, the spandex too slippery for a good grip. When the bra finally came off, trying to take some hair with it in a tangled mess, she chucked it in the bucket with a growl. Pink lines dappled her skin, little indentations where the straps had pulled tighter than they should have, but they would fade under the water too.

Shorts and underwear came next and Yang dunked them to the bottom of the bucket until they soaked through, held there by their own weight. There was no soap or detergent to speak of except the cracking white bar in the dish of the shower, but it was better than nothing. Ruby knelt down next to her, dousing everything else until the water was threatening to spill over the wooden rim, just shy of too full. Their shoulders bumped together, skin still warm from the fight, muscles aching.

“Think there’s enough clothespins for both of us?” Water splashed all over the floor as Ruby pulled out her shirt, twisting the fabric into a thick rope to squeeze out the weight. “That rack’s gonna fall someday.”

“I’ll chuck some tools in my bag next time. Give it a couple extra nails, at least.” Concrete rasped against Yang’s knees when she pulled out her clothes, draining out the excess over the bucket. “Hang these up. I got to get the pump going.”

“Someone’s giving a lot of orders today.” Ruby teased, scooping the pile into her arms and slipping right out of reach.

“Want to switch it around?” Standing up, Yang looked her way, but Ruby was facing the wall, trying to get her pants to stay up with a single clip. “Just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you.”

“You’re just in coach mode. I’m not complaining, Yang.” Ruby’s voice softened at the end, enough that the hard grind of the pump almost overwhelmed her name.

Here, they weren’t a team. They weren’t partners either, but something else Yang had never bothered to find a name for. All the words sounded wrong, too shallow to hold everything that they between them, unspoken or otherwise. Her hands tensed around the old handle, working it up and down, but her attention was on Ruby’s back, watching the interplay of muscle where it flexed above both shoulder blades and flared out from her ribs. Those arms carried a scythe like it weighed nothing, ready to slice through the sky if that’s what it took, but it was the subtle scent of roses over the cold water that made Yang’s knees weak.

The bronze pipes creaked around them, giving it their all. “Ready for the plunge?”

Yang stepped into the stall, feet on either side of the drain so the showerhead was right above hers. One frigid drop fell from the nozzle onto her face and she shuddered, waiting until Ruby joined her to close her eyes. It was a ritual, kind of, when she pulled Ruby close to her chest, arms wrapping like a cloak above both shoulders right before the water came through. Steam should have burst from her skin at the sheer cold, like white-hot iron suddenly quenched, but Yang grit her teeth, keeping Ruby’s head tucked under her chin until the worst of the shock faded away.

“It’s never as bad as I think it’s going to be.” Ruby murmured against her collarbone, even as she shivered a little. “Yang, you’re holding really tight.”

“Sorry.” She nearly gasped the word, taking a step back so the water flowed between them.

From this close, Yang could watch every streak of red as it trickled down Ruby’s face, blood sluiced out of the cut above her brow. When it was washed clean, she could see the damage was narrow but deep, connecting the wild strike she’d made on her back to where it had gouged in. Second knuckle, more than likely, the angle just hard enough to split skin. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss right above the cut, breathing in the scent of wet copper and crushed rose petals.

It was just blood. It could have been worse.

“I want to take care of you.” The constant splash of water on concrete nearly drowned out Ruby’s mumble, but Yang hung onto every word. “All the sore places, where it hurts. You always do it for me.”

“Yeah?” She whispered back. It wasn’t an argument, wasn’t really a question.

“And then you let me be on top because I like watching you move.” Fingers traced across her collarbones, between her breasts, and Yang’s breath hitched in her throat. “Can we take care of each other?”

Tilting her head down, Yang let their eyes meet. They were close enough that gold bled into red, into black, into all the colors they left on each other’s skin. “Yeah.”

Some of it hurt. Ruby’s fingers were just as calloused as hers, and the only delicate work they were good at was while working in the heart of a weapon with tiny tools and Dust. Metal didn’t bruise even when a screw was stripped or a gear stuck in place, not like flesh. Yang kept the sounds bubbling up in her throat soft as soap was slicked across her skin, all the hard and painful points massaged away. The one time she whimpered, actually whimpered, Ruby answered the sound with a kiss, deep enough that Yang forgot to breathe until the water forced her to.

When it was her turn, Ruby turned around, both hands on the wall for balance. The soap was just slivers at this point, yielding into suds as Yang washed her from head to toe. Finally drained of adrenaline, the ache was bone-deep now, exhaustion slowing the path of her fingers until she was simply pressed up against Ruby’s back, chin resting on one shoulder. Their fingers overlapped one other’s, not quite intertwined but fitting right in place.

“You want to get out?” Yang asked softly.

“Not yet.”

She hadn’t thought so. “Okay.”

By the time they got out of the shower, the cut on Ruby’s brow was sealed, a thin pink line that wouldn’t even scar. Yang laughed when wrinkled fingers tickled up her back, avoiding the small abrasions still left behind. She pulled a face while getting her clothes back on, used to the chill but not the sensation. They would have to sprint down to her bike if either of them were going to end up dry at this rate.

“You hungry?” Pushing the equipment box back into its nook made her arms scream from the effort, but Yang wasn’t going to leave the gym looking any less than it was when she came in. “We could grab a bite and take it to the beach.”

“Just as long as we don’t go into the water.” Ruby gripped the lip over the doorway and stretched all the way to her tip-toes, letting out a sigh after there were a couple of small cracks. “You’ll have a prune for a sister.”

She scoffed. “Gross. I just want to watch the sunset and you had to ruin the moment.”

Mischief twinkled in Ruby’s eyes. “I’ll race you to the bottom. Whoever touches Bumblebee first gets dinner paid for.”

“You’re on, brat.” Yang slapped her shoulder before darting out the door past her. “Let’s have you spend your hard-earned Lien for once! And no using your Semblance!”

A resounding cry of  _Yaaaaaaaaang_  followed her halfway down the mountain as she ran towards the horizon, feeling like just a little bit of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.


End file.
